


Never Again

by SusanaR



Series: Desperate Hours Alternative Universe G version (DH AU G) [38]
Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Assassination Plot(s), F/M, Family Drama, Father-Daughter Relationship, Friendship, Gen, Politics, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-10
Updated: 2015-03-22
Packaged: 2018-03-17 05:43:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3517601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SusanaR/pseuds/SusanaR
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even after years in the West, Thranduil Oropherion still wasn't sure exactly what to do with himself, but he promised himself that he would never again consent to serve as a Security Liaison during the Transition Ceremony for the Yen-King. Even if the new Yen-King was his good friend, former King Amroth of Lothlorien. Never. Again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Set some time later in the Fourth Age, perhaps around year 700 Fourth Age. 
> 
> A/N 2: Many of the lovely elven OCs in this story are borrowed from Emma and Kaylee, with their kind permission. My stories are not part of their wonderful series, so in my stories their elven OCs are rather AU versions of themselves, but I have still tried to be faithful to their characterizations of these excellent characters. If you want to read Emma and Kaylee's stories, some of them are posted here: 
> 
> A/N 3: I try to explain the different geopolitical relationships of the elves in Tol Eressea in the AU below in the context of the story, but very briefly, the different Kingdoms of the elves who have sailed elect one Kingdom to choose two elves to serve as King and Queen of Tol Eressea's capital city, Marillaeglir. Each King and Queen serve for a period of 144 years, before another Kingdom selects the next rulers, who will rule for another 144 years, and so on. Currently, at the start of the story, the Yen-King of Marillaeglir is King Ecthelion, the former Lord Ecthelion of the House of the Fountain in Gondolin, the "other" Balrog-Slayer. He is a Prince of Gondolin-Earillye, the Kingdom of Gondolin in the West. The new rulers, who are assuming their duties during the course of the story, are Prince Amroth and Princess Nimrodel of Galadar Annun (Lothlorien in the West). 
> 
> A/N 4: Thranduil's only daughter is Eryntheliel, which roughly means forest-dedication-daughter (or at least so I intended it to mean). Thranduil often calls her "Eryniel," forest daughter, or "Rhovaniel-nin," my wild daughter. 
> 
> Quote: 
> 
> "Have you never thought how danger must surround power as shadow does light?" - Ursula K. Leguin

"But, Prince Thranduil," the food vendor protested, "That stand of pine trees entirely obscures the view of my food stands from the parade field! The masses gathered to see the ascension of King Amroth and Queen Nimrodel will not be able to see my succulent offerings at all until after the conclusion of the ceremony! You simply MUST sign these orders for the trees to be cut down!" The self-important ellon waved his papers around again. 

Thranduil more-or-less ignored him. There was something about the fellow that bothered Thranduil. Something besides the very idea of cutting down trees for such a facile reason. Thranduil just couldn't quite put his finger on what it was, though. The vendor was a respected food merchant, one who owned restaurants throughout the Seven (or nine, or even ten, depending upon how one counted them) Kingdoms of Tol Eressea, the Lonely Island across the Bay of Eldamar from Aman proper. 

A refreshing breeze from the direction of the pine copse in question blew in through the open windows of Thranduil's small office as he pondered the matter. Every yen - or every one hundred and forty-four years as the humans had measured time - the different Kingdoms of Tol Eressea selected a new King and Queen of the western-most city and territory of the island, called Marillaeglir. That poor individual- or individuals in the case of Amroth and Nimrodel, who ruled as equals - were responsible for leading the Council of Tol Eressea and serving as the liaisons between the Kingdoms of Tol Eressea and the Vanyar, Noldor, and Teleri of Aman proper. To Thranduil, it sounded like one hundred and forty-four years of torture, but his cousin and dear friend Amroth was proud to have been offered the honor.

This was to be the seventh time a new Yen-King and Queen ascended the western-facing thrones in Marillaeglir. But it was the first time that the new King - and his Queen - were to be amongst the elves who had not been born in the West, who had not already been ancient when Ancalagon fell and broke the world. The first time that Tol Eressea would be ruled by elves who were therefore not, as Thranduil found it amusing to describe them, 'older than dirt.' 

So, Amroth and Nimrodel's ascension was not without controversy. A number of elves in Aman proper were not at all happy about it, and large sections of Gondolin-Earillye, Doriath Gaeronwest, and Anderserme (where dwelled many elves who had once been of Nargothorond and Lindon), were also discontented. It was for that reason, primarily, that Thranduil had accepted Amroth's request that Thranduil personally captain the soldiers sent by Eryn Brongalen to assist with security for the ceremony and celebrations. 

Eryn Brongalen, or the enduring green forest, was the name given to their new home in the West by the elves from Greenwood who had sailed after the War of the Last Alliance and been re-born in the early Third Age. As with many of the other kingdoms of Tol Eressea, rule of Eryn Brongalen moved between a number of different elves who were related to Oropher in one way or another. Thranduil had been offered multiple opportunities to serve as heir and then King again, but he'd always turned it down. That, and any other official position. Which was why his father had been surprised, and several members of Oropher's council had nearly expired of shock, when Thranduil actually asked for this appointment. 

Part of the duties of Thranduil's new and very temporary position unfortunately included dealing with idiots like this food vendor, who wanted to set up temporary shop right in the middle of where Thranduil had been idly considering whether or not to put several guards on the day of the coronation. Still, it was unlikely that the food vendor was anything more than an irritating ellon. Thranduil should simply tell him 'no' and send him on his way. But there was something about him....

Instincts honed on the battlefields and dangerous forests of Middle Earth warned Thranduil that something was not quite right. So he let the ellon keep talking, and waving his papers back and forth. Soon enough, a polite knock on the door signalled that the food vendor's time was up. Thranduil called for his lieutenants - Linwe and Ridhae, both great Lords in their own right - to escort the ellon on his way. 

"But Prince Thranduil has not even signed my papers!" The food vendor protested. 

"His Highness our Captain will give it due consideration, I am sure." Soothed Ridhae as he led the ellon away, "As you know, Sir Merchant, we who only recently sailed are still new to such procedures, and may require more time to come to terms with them." 

An age spent at Thanduil's right hand had seen Ridhae's father Fileg become a master at delivering an insult cloaked in a compliment. Ridhae himself lacked his father's questionable sense of humor, and was by nature and training a polite young elf. Thranduil wondered just how unpleasant this particular merchant had made himself before he'd even been subjected to the man's presence, to get a highly-irritated-Fileg impression out of the steady Ridhae. 

More important than finding that out was figuring out what was going on with the merchant to put Thranduil so on edge. "Have him followed, Lin." He softly commanded his second. 

Linwe's jade-green eyes sharpened. He moved to obey with a nod which somehow conveyed both that he understood the gravity of the situation, and also that Thranduil should watch himself. 

Thranduil snorted in amusement as he got to his feet. What could there be, in this safe building, in this soft place in the West, that would threaten him? Then he paused, because...there it was again. The feeling of something out of place. He questioned himself, for a moment. In a way he almost never had, at home, in the Greenwood. There, he'd felt more sure of himself. He'd loved the trees there, the Wood itself, since he was an elfling. He'd grown up there, defended the place with his own blood. His heart had been invested in every inch. He'd felt the loss of every tree to the darkness as it encroached. He'd felt the pain of every healthy sapling covered in poisonous spider web. He'd rejoiced, as they fought the darkness back, during the Watchful Peace, the years when his son Thandrin, and then the twins Eryntheliel and Lithidhren, and also Fileg's Ridhae and so many other elflings had been born, in hope and triumph. He'd breathed easier for each branch reaching safely to the clean air above. Then when the Peace ended, Thranduil had mourned and cursed and raged, as they'd lost that ground again, far, far faster than they'd gotten it back, before Legolas was even old enough to fletch his own arrows. At the last, after the Ring War, Thranduil had seen each and every one of those trees free again, each and every inch of forest loam cleansed. 

There, in his forest, Thranduil had known himself, been sure of himself. Here, in the West,...he was still adrift. He knew it, and knew too that his family hoped that this position would be the beginning of his finding his own place here, in the West where almost no one ever died. Thranduil, however, intended only to do this job, and then return to the quiet vastness of the lands he had come to claim as his own, continuing to venture out to court only so frequently as he had to, in order to keep his wife and children happy. 

It was hard to be sure that the uneasiness he was feeling now was anything more than the constant displacement of being here, in the West. But yet...Thranduil's hands moved of their own accord to the narrow closet of his temporary office. With the ease of long, if not recent, habit, he added several knives to the sword he already carried as an officer - however temporary- of the King-and-Queen-to-be. But yet, Thranduil was sure. His hands, moving of their own accord, told him. Something was not right. He may not be of this place, but he still knew. 

Floor-to-ceiling windows let in the first blushing rays of the sunset as he walked towards the main entry room of the temporary garrison. Even though it had been built to house the guards sent from each Kingdom to provide security and fanfare, it was still completely indefensible. Thranduil frowned at that oversight, until he caught a glimpse of an elf just entering the door. All he could see was one shoulder and tumbled blond curls half-tamed by braids decorated with bright feathers and shells, but he knew her. 

"Rhovaniel-nin," He greeted his darling only daughter, Eryntheliel. He could tell that she was upset, just from the curve of her shoulder. But he didn't known how upset, nor what she might be worried about that would trouble her so. From just a glimpse of Legolas' shoulder, he might have known. But he'd had Legolas for longer. Eryntheliel and her twin and Thranduil's heir Thandrin had all died at the end of the Watchful Peace. Legolas had lived. Thranduil and Legolas had survived the siege and the war and its end together, and even though Eryntheliel was the child whose spirit Thranduil had always, always understood best, he still did not know what was wrong, and would not, until she told him. 

Eryntheliel's bright blue eyes flew to him. Worried, yes, and more than, but all of that eased when she saw him. Her breath caught, exhaling dread and fear. And she smiled. Eryntheliel believed that he could make this right, whatever it was. That simple faith overwhelmed Thranduil for a moment. It was a large part of why he had sailed, not just Eryn's faith and love but also that of his sons', and his wife, and his friends. He did not know what he could do for them here, in this strange place. But he would try. 

Despite her heightened emotions, Eryntheliel kept her composure, greeting her father only with fond affection and not a rushed confession. Although all of the elves present in the entry way and the garrison were sworn to the service of Eryn Brongalen, Eryntheliel had learned early to be careful about what she said and to whom. Thranduil glanced around the room, noting that his Eryn had been accompanied by her two of her dearest friends, Cellillien and Merilin. Sweet, doe-eyed Cellillien, called Celli, was the daughter of Veassen, one of Thranduil's sworn-brothers. After her older brother had died beside Eryntheliel, Cellilien had trained as a soldier and served in Thranduil's army. She'd guarded both him and Legolas, and had done so well. But since sailing, she had worked more often as an assistant to Eryntheliel in her work as an animal tender and trainer. Cellillien's heart had never really been in the sword and bow. Thranduil was glad to see her making other choices, now. Glad to see her happy again. 

Merilin and Cellilien were a study in contrasts, Merilin was pale-blond and angular, where Cellilien was gently rounded and dark-haired. Merilin was Amroth and Nimrodel's only daughter. A decade ago, her brother and Eryntheliel had begun courting. That was another reason why Thranduil had taken on this task of helping to see Amroth safely crowned. That it was Amroth, and that he'd asked, would have been enough. But it was his daughter's heart at stake, as well. 

Before he could draw the young ellith aside to find out what was the matter, Thranduil heard the soft tread of another female foot outside the door. Before he even saw her, Thranduil felt the wind over the broad river Anduin on his face. He smelled the cherry blossoms from Ithilien-en-Edhil. He heard the waterfalls of Imladris and could almost taste the spiced apple pies the men of Erebor had sent to his Northern Hall. Then the door opened, and he could see the sunset on the water of the Bay of Dol Amroth. He'd only seen it only once before and he would never see it again, save in the gold-red hair of Mithiriel. She who was Aragorn Telcontar's granddaughter, and Prince Faramir's daughter. Mithiriel who was his cousin Ecthelion's wife, one of the only two humans in Aman. She did not belong in this place, in some fundamental way. But just being in her presence was like opening a window into his past, or opening a chest from the land he loved still. 

For the first few decades Thranduil had been here in the West, that memory of home had been an almost unbearable pain. He'd rarely seen Mithiriel in that time, although her husband Ecthelion, called Theli, had been about quite frequently, as had Legolas and his ridiculous dwarf. Still, Thranduil had grown to like Gimli better than the last three ellith his middle-son Lithidhren had brought home, so that was something. And he'd gotten to the point where Mithiriel bringing a small bit of Middle Earth with her wherever she went was almost welcome. 

Soon enough, he had his daughter and her friends - including Mithiriel- ensconced in his office. Which was quite a feat, even though Eryntheliel and Mithiriel were both very small persons. Thranduil had never before had to consider the problems of having an office which was too small. It was novel, but he did not think that he liked it. It was inconvenient, yet it didn't seem to stop people from bothering him, so of what use was it? 

"Ada, Mithiriel has a problem." Eryntheliel started. 

"Why doesn't she go to her husband, then?" Thranduil replied. He'd do anything for Eryntheliel, but he didn't see why Mithiriel's problem had to be his problem. He had enough problems. 

Mithiriel laughed lightly. Thranduil favored her with a displeased expression. 

She just smiled again, albeit a bit apologetically, "It wouldn't be your problem, cousin Thrani. And I can take it to Lord Glorfindel of Gondolin-Earrilye, I know that he is in charge of overall security for the Ascension Ceremonies...." Mithiriel began to explain, speaking fast and lightly as she always did. 

Thranduil waved a hand. They were here now, he might as well deal with whatever it was if he could. The whole story probably wasn't that interesting. 

Mithiriel reached into her fashionable over-the-shoulder bag, and pulled out several letters. She handed them to Thranduil, who accepted them with a sigh. 

The first sentence made him snarl. Addressed to Mithiriel, the letter began by calling her a wicked witch, moved on to stating that all humans were no better than animals and kinslayers, and ended by threatening to kill all of the kinslayer's get, including Mithiriel. 

Eryntheliel, Cellilien, and Mithiriel had all seen him angry before, but Merilin squeaked in surprise. Thranduil put the letters carefully down on his desk, then wrenched back control of his temper with a hiss of rage. 

"You little fool." He accused Mithiriel. Far from being intimidated, she just looked back at him levelly. 

"You should at the very least have told your husband." Thranduil lectured her fiercely, "Who should have told Lord Glorfindel, who should have passed the message on to all of the Captains of all of the seven security detachments." 

"Seven and a half." Mithiriel corrected, pedantic and fearless. Thranduil took a deep breath to keep himself from yelling. 

Mithiriel shook her red-gold hair and apologized. "That isn't the point, and you are right that I should have said something. The first letter arrived last night, when Theli was in surgery." Mithiriel's husband was one of the better trauma surgeons in Tol Eressea. What exactly the two of them were doing in Marillaeglir, Thranduil wasn't sure. They, like Legolas and his wife Raniel and their constant companion the ridiculous dwarf, lived a highly peripatetic life-style. "The second arrived this morning, and I did send word to Lord Glorfindel that there had been a generalized threat against humans, but..." 

Calmer, as that was the gist of the poisonous letters, Thranduil asked, "I will have a copy of the text sent to him, Miri. And to the other Security Captains. Glorfindel will likely want to speak with you. Go home, and tell Theli, and the two of you can talk to him together." And you didn't need to bring my daughter into it. But Thranduil didn't say that part aloud. Eryntheliel didn't seem as if she'd appreciate it, and besides, he had a fair amount of sympathy for Mithiriel. Receiving letters threatening your life and happiness because you happened to be human was terribly upsetting. But not upsetting enough that it should have stopped this particular capable young woman from passing on the word that Tuor, and all of the peredhil, were also at risk. 

Mithiriel was still tense. So were Eryntheliel, Cellilien, and Merilin. Especially Merilin. 

"Theli's family will be coming," Mithiriel explained softly, "His grandfather Elurin, or Eldun, I mean. And his parents. Coming here, to Marillaeglir, for the Ceremony."

"Oh, THAT orc-son." Thranduil leaned back in his chair, thoughtful for the first time. Elurin, or Eldun, had held fast a small part of Thranduil's woods for over two ages, before finally sailing with his reclusive people. Thranduil could have used his help, fighting against the dark creatures who threatened and tormented the Greenwood. But Eldun had wanted nothing to do with the problems, and he'd banished those of his people who had wanted a different life. Including his grandson. And then threatened them with death, if they dared return. Eldun, his aunt-by-law Dilys, and their fellow reclusive Nandor lived in a remote part of the northwest forests on Tol Eressea. They normally wanted nothing to do with public affairs, unlike Denethor's people, the far more numerous Silvan elves who did not consider themselves part of Eryn Brongalen or Galador-Annun, the new kingdom in the West of the Lothlorien elves. Denethor's people still called themselves the Laiquendi, but they lived between Doriath Gaeronwest and Eryn Brongalen and actively traded and interacted with both, and also with Galador Annun. Denethor most often sent an emissary to the Ascension Ceremony at Marillaeglir, and kept at least an informal ambassador in residence. Eldun and Dilys had never done so. 

"You still should have told your husband." Thranduil said sternly to Mithiriel, after a moment. Even if Theli's evil grandfather were coming, Theli would want to help his wife deal with this. Thranduil gave Mithiriel a narrowed look, for good measure. He didn't get involved in other elves' marital problems, but if she were his wife, he'd have some strong words. 

Mithiriel took a deep breath. "I think that Theli's family might be part of the problem." 

Thranduil picked up the letters again, reading them over to give himself time to think about whether Mithiriel might be right about that. Sadly, he thought that it was possible. Which ruined his plan to have a quiet dinner with his wife and daughter in the park this evening. Sending his cousin's young wife alone to tell him that his family was plotting to have her murdered wasn't the type of thing that a responsible ellon did, particularly when he was somewhat fond of said cousin, and said cousin had served him faithfully for an age. 

"Theli's grandfather's people? Do they even write?" Thranduil asked snidely, venting his annoyance and anger over the whole affair. 

"Ada." Eryntheliel said reproachfully. 

"No, I truly think that they are illiterate. And proud of being so." Thranduil defended himself. Eryntheliel was one of the few elves he was willing to moderate his temper for, at least sometimes. 

"Elurin writes quite a fine hand, when he so chooses." Mithiriel said with quiet intensity. "And he has not, in the past, been unwilling to work with those who wield a quill. Or a bow." 

Thranduil froze, only just then understanding what Mithiriel meant. "Dear girl," Thranduil said, as gently as he could, "'Kinslayer' is used here as a term to refer to all humans, however unfairly so. I do not believe that the author of this...filth...meant anything more by it than that." 

"Merilin knows, too." Eryntheliel spoke up. "That her great-grandfather is Maglor. Her mother and cousin Amroth told each of them, when they came of age." 

"Ah." Said Thranduil, glad that Nimrodel and Amroth had had at least that much sense. 

Mithiriel was shaking her head. "Elurin -Eldun - actually spoke for Theli and I, when first we wed. He left his home to go with Lady Elwing to petition the Valar to offer us a choice to come and stay here, instead of Theli living out his life as a man and going to the Halls of Mandos with me and my family." Mithiriel proceeded to explain, her grey-green eyes as angry as Thranduil had ever seen them. "He knew that I was a human, and did not hold it against me. Why would he? He is one quarter a human, himself." 

"He's not exactly a rational being, Mithiriel." Thranduil pointed out. He really did not like Eldun. And he'd only met him once, when Eldun had been saving his foster-son's life. Oh, and threatening Theli with death, and all of them with harm if they didn't quickly get out of his village with their badly-injured comrade. Yes, Thranduil did not like Eldun. 

Mithiriel nodded, as if to say that Thranduil had a point, before going on, "But, even knowing I was a human, he spoke for us. And then he summoned us, when first we arrived at these shores. We went to meet him. He had intended to reconcile with Theli. Until he learned that I was not just a human descendant of Elros Tar-Minyatur, but also a human descendant of Mithrellas of Lothlorien, a granddaughter of Belegaeron."

"He lost his temper, then? Threatened to kill you both, I imagine? Or did he just make it snow, like a petulant child?" Thranduil asked. 

That earned him a bitter, but real, laugh from Mithiriel. "He disowned Theli again. He said that he could not bear the thought of killing me, as I am his only grandson's beloved. But that if I ever became like my many-times great-grandfather, then he would see me dead." She paused. "And he also summoned a wind storm. With hail." 

"Such a fool. A pity he didn't fade." Thranduil said. 

Merilin gasped in horror at such a thought. 

"He really is a fool, Merilin." Mithiriel explained gently, as if to excuse Thranduil's almost-blasphemy. 

"A fool who paid - or at the least supported - an insane elleth who arranged the murder of your aunt Carys." Thranduil told Merelin bluntly. "Which left your cousins orphans, after their father Emlyn died in the war. When that insane elleth..." 

"Nielinie." Supplied Mithiriel, although Thranduil noted that she did not include Nielinie's father-name. Maeglin was dead, and had not yet been reborn. Neither had Nielinie, so there was truly no need to bring that up. 

"Yes, her." Thranduil continued irritably, "When she realized that Carys' sons had survived, she paid a band of orcs to massacre their village. When they escaped that, she repeatedly tried to have them killed in Caras Galadhon. She nearly succeeded. Celeborn had to shoot her, when she had a knife to your cousin Orophin's throat." 

Merilin was pale. Eryntheliel patted her hand, and said comfortingly, "Haldir, Orophin, and Rumil survived. Carys and Emlyn have been reborn. And Nielinie is with Lord Namo." 

"Eldun called me 'the Kinslayer's get.'" Mithiriel explained, looking down for a moment to keep her composure, and then meeting Thranduil's eyes again. "Those were his exact words, hundreds of years ago when we met with him.Theli told him that if he ever threatened to harm me again, or any of Maglor's granddaughters or their descendants, then he - we - would treat that threat as if it came from any other would-be murderer." 

"So, in this case...." Thranduil mused, "That would mean going to the rulers of Marillaeglir." As Eldun's folk acknowledged no King or Queen, and Marillaeglir spoke for all of Tol Eressea. 

Mithiriel nodded. "And now the new Queen of Marillaeglir, the first true Queen co-ruler of Marillaeglir, will be the granddaughter of a Kinslayer." 

"Do these letters constitute a serious threat, do you think?" Thranduil asked her. As a former King would ask a former ruler of Imladris, for so he had been, once. And so she had been, once. 

"I think that the chance of it being a real threat is sufficient to take it seriously." Mithiriel answered carefully, her father's daughter. "I do not know, if Eldun would actually plan to kill anyone. He does not truly believe in killing. He would expect to order Nimrodel - and all of us who bear Maglor's blood - to walk ourselves into the sea to die. Or, I don't know, expect us to penitently walk to the Halls of Mandos, and there beg Lord Namo to take us in and keep us from harming anyone else until the world ends." 

Thranduil laughed. "Are you guessing, or did he say that?" 

"Guessing." Mithiriel answered, with a wry, tired smile, "But he said a lot of things." 

"I'm sure he did. Poor girl." Thranduil sympathized. He could understand, now, why Mithiriel had brought this problem to him, if not why she'd involved Eryntheliel. Lord Glorfindel would still have to be informed - and wouldn't that be fun? But Thranduil himself was deeply invested in having the start of Amroth and Nimrodel's yen-long reign go smoothly. And having Elurin show up and announce that the new Yen-King's wife was the granddaughter of a kinslayer would be a great way to go about ending Amroth's reign - and Nimrodel's - before it even started. And Thranduil was one of the only elves who knew that such a thing was even a possibility. The number of elves who knew that Maglor had even had children over the sea was very small. Thranduil had not known, nor had Galadriel and Celeborn, until Faramir and Melpomaen rescued Mithrellas from her prison under Minas Morgul at the end of the Third Age. 

"Eryn, you and Celli and Merilin go meet your mother for dinner." Thranduil directed his daughter. "Let her know that I'll be late, and that I'll probably need her help at a tedious meeting later tonight." 

Eryntheliel, accustomed to her father, grinned. She was still worried, but ever so much less so. Thranduil wished that he felt the same, but at least he'd managed to ease his daughter's fears. 

Mithiriel was smiling at him, and she did know how much trouble this was going to cause them all, but at least appreciated hearing it described as "tedious." That Mithiriel had a lively sense of humor despite her pedantic, scholarly nature, was one of the things that Thranduil liked about her. That, and her ability to turn their enemies into sea slugs. Well, more the wisdom not to do so unless it was really necessary, and the wisdom to realize that every use of her magic had a cost. But having an ally who could turn an assassin into a sea slug (if she really had to) sitting beside his daughter at the Ascension Ceremony later this week was a good thing, and Thranduil appreciated it.


	2. Chapter 2

The rest of the week passed in a blur. It was, for the most part, every bit as annoying as Thranduil had expected. 

Thranduil had resolved himself to going with Mithiriel to explain the letters to Theli, but to his relief Mithiriel had turned him down. 

"Legolas should be flying in soon." Mithiriel had said, looking to the clock in Thranduil's office. "In fact, he should be landing at the southwest field anytime now." That had not really been what Thranduil wanted to hear - he still felt rather ambivalent about Legolas's hobby of flying those ridiculous machines. But he had to agree that Legolas would be better than he at holding Mithiriel's hand, and then subsequently stopping Theli from going in person to confront his fool of grandfather. 

The meeting about how to deal with the threat of Nimrodel being outed as the granddaughter of one of the kinslayers was as boring as Thranduil thought it would be, except that it did have some very exciting moments. Those were, however, offset by finding himself feeling sympathetic for both Galadriel and Nimrodel in the same meeting. Thranduil did not like either of them. He liked them much better than he liked Eldun, though. And much better, even, then he liked most of the elves of Aman proper. 

In the Kingdoms of the Vanyar, Noldor, and Lindar, there was actually a very out-spoken minority who actually considered Thranduil, and most of the other elves of Tol-Eressea who had served as warriors in Middle Earth, to be kin-slayers themselves, because they had killed enemy humans during the different wars. A smaller but even-more outspoken group maintained that Thranduil and any other elves who had killed orcs were ALSO kinslayers, because the orcs had been bred by Melkor of elves and men as well as monsters. Prince Ingwion of the Vanyar, and all of the returned Exiles, tried to discourage that campaign as much as possible. Thranduil himself had inadvertently thrown a great deal of confusion into its ranks, by sailing to Middle Earth with two ships of orcs in his fleet. After the war, they'd changed. Most of them were still blood-thirsty, vicious killers who delighted in destruction and death. But some were just unpleasant, ugly, smelly, and bloodthirsty. They stayed in their own foul lands of Mordor, or went to seek work elsewhere when they ran out of food. 

Thranduil had not been a supporter, per se, of what had once been Mithiriel and her sister Haleth's campaign to save the orcs (or at least keep the orcs from being as big of a problem - the two ladies weren't quite as naive as the first title might lead one to think). But he had to admit, the orcs who chose to work - for pay- in draining the dead marshes and burying the elven and orcish dead were not monsters, not anymore. And he'd had to agree that the Haradrim who enslaved the orcs, and the dark magicians of Rhun who kidnapped the orcs to use their blood, had to be stopped. Thranduil had even committed troops to the latter of those two endeavors, and had fought side-by-side with a few orcs himself. He'd reached a point of not wanting to kill every single orc all the time. He'd never became friends with any of the orcs, not like Elladan and Elrohir with Tur-Ug the Chain Pulverizer. It was difficult to become friends with a being who mourned about not being able to eat elven babies anymore because it knew that doing so was wrong, but it had never tasted anything as good as the blood of an elven baby. Tur-Ug had been born after the end of the Ring War, and had, to the best of Thranduil's knowledge, never eaten anyone except a particularly vicious Rhunnish mage. Said Rhunnish mage had tried to rape one of Faramir's granddaughters, so maybe that was part of why Tur-Ug had gotten along so well with Elladan and Elrohir. 

In any case, Thranduil had agreed to bring with him to the West several hundred orcs who had mostly just wanted to find peace and not be put in a position where they were tempted to eat anything sentient again. The Maiar and the Valar had accepted those orcs as long-lost children, and made them comfortable in the Gardens of Lorien. Thranduil had never been to see them there, but his bringing them to the West and not killing them along the way there or objecting to their presence had caused great confusion to the elves who believed that orcs-are-children-too and that Thranduil, the Warrior-King of the Great Wood, was a mass murderer of orcs. 

Still, at one event or another that he hadn't been able to avoid, Thranduil had been accused of being a foul slayer of orcs. Fortunately, he'd normally been near a family member who could assist with that interaction. One of the times he'd been by himself, Prince Fingon, the son of Prince Fingolfin and the cousin of then-King Finrod of the Noldor, had spoken up for Thranduil. 

Fingon was at the interminable meeting. He accused Galadriel of a number of crimes, including having master-minded a "conspiracy of silence" to keep his sworn-brother's great-nephews and nieces from him. 

At that, Thranduil held felt the need to speak up. "It was not a conspiracy of silence. It was a "conspiracy of it-doesn't-matter-so-who-cares." He clarified. 

"If it doesn't matter," asked Thranduil's grandfather Celepharn, the emissary from Doriath-Gaeronwest to Marillaeglir for the ceremony, "Then why did not one of you, Grandson," he looked to Thranduil, "or you, Cousins," He looked to Galadriel, Celeborn, and Elrond, "Think to mention to any of us that the future Queen of Marillaeglir, the past Queen of Galador Annun," Celepharn gave Nimrodel a critical look, and then turned to face Aegnor and his betrothed, Mithrellas, "The future Queen of Adanserme and potentially, someday, the Noldor, and," turning back to look at Thranduil, "Several possible future Kings of Doriath Gaeronwest and Galador Annun are ALL descendants of a Kingslayer, and not just any Kingslayer, but Maglor Feanorion!" 

"Well," Thranduil began sarcastically. . 

"Thranduil." Celeborn said levelly, a hint of an appeal in his voice and gentle reproach plain on his noble face. 

With an audible sound of frustration, Thranduil waved that Celeborn could explain. He noted, idly, that Galadriel seemed almost disappointed that Thranduil didn't get to have his say. Elrond and Celebrian appeared remarkably blank-faced about the whole thing, but Celebrian gave him a slight smile. 

"I asked myself that question, Celepharn." Celeborn said intently, "Whether we should not just make it plain, who it was that Nimrodel's grandfather had been in the first Age. We did speak with Lady Nerdanel about the matter." 

"Aunt Nerdanel knew?" Said Prince Fingon, sounding heart-broken, "And she did not tell me?" 

King Turgon, the current ruler of Gondolin-Earrilye, reached forward to put a supportive hand on his brother's shoulder. "Aunt Nerdanel must have had her reasons, Fingon. We should at least hear them." He turned his attention to Galadriel. 

"We are not on trial here, cousins-mine." She told them. "It should not matter who an elf's father is. Or their mother. Or their great-grandfather." 

"It shouldn't." Celeborn agreed, stepping forward to clasp his wife's hand. "But it mattered to me, when first we learned that our beloved adopted sons were the great-grandsons of a murderer. To my shame, it made me sick to love them, until I had reconciled myself to the fact that they had not changed. That, though they bear his blood, it had never tainted them." 

"Nor had it tainted Celebrimbor." Elrond pointed out, "And, in fact, Feanor's sons themselves were bound, in part, by an enchantment cast by their father, Feanor, using their blood, when they were children." 

Thranduil hadn't known that. Neither had anyone else except Elrond's immediate family and Mithrellas. Much discussion ensued. 

Prince Fingon and Thranduil's grandfather Celepharn were the loudest voices. Thranduil had only met Fingon a handful of times. There were days he wished he could say the same about his paternal grandfather, except that the Iathrim lord was fundamentally good, and admirable - it was his inflexible standards and attitude, in especially his attitude towards Thranduil and Thranduil's children, which Thranduil found off-putting. But Thranduil could understand Celepharn's upset at this. Celepharn had lost his own life and most of his family to the kin-slayers. Added to that, Nimrodel and Mithrellas were like ice and fire, and not likely to evoke anyone's empathy. Mithiriel was different, but she was not here. 

Of the older generation, none of the wives but Galadriel were even present. Of the next generation, only Thranduil's mother sat beside her husband. In Thranduil's generation, who were in fact the youngest to even have a vote at the table, it was actually Celebrian who was the ambassadress of Avallone in her own name, and Elrond was here because, well, who was going to tell him he wasn't welcome? Thranduil himself had used the same trick a number of times.

It was hard, being in West. Thranduil was accustomed to ruling his own Kingdom, to the final decisions most often being his. He hadn't ever liked all the aspects of it, but he'd been raised to do his duty, and that was truly all he'd ever known. Not being able to be the one who looked after his elves here had been...hard. He could, of course, have taken those who followed him from middle earth and started a new Kingdom of his own. The land that Minaethiel and his children had claimed before his arrival was vast enough for it. But he found that he didn't want to separate those who had stayed until the end for him and the greenwood from their kin who had sailed before, and who were content under the rule of his father. Oropher was a much better peace-time King than Thranduil, anyway. Oropher had a patience and a talent for administration that Thranduil lacked almost entirely. Thranduil was the better warrior, the better general, but there wasn't much call for that, here in the West. So Thranduil had simply invited himself to his father's council sessions, whenever one of Thranduil's people had asked for his help with something official. 

It had been Thranduil's grandfather Celepharn, and his irritating older brother Galadhir, who had objected to that behavior. 

"Former King of the Greenwood or not, Thranduil cannot just assume his rightful duties whenever he pleases, and ignore them when he does not!" Celepharn had told his son sternly. 

"Yes, he may. He has earned it, after all." Oropher had contradicted his father, much to Celepharn's surprise. It was one of the first times Thranduil had ever heard his father disagree with Celepharn. Not that Thranduil's grandfather didn't have his good points. In his favor, had not objected to Celebrian's presence, unlike some of Galadriel's more traditional cousins. 

Thranduil's wife sat beside him, and Nimrodel would rule with Amroth - if they got the chance. Ereinion's heir Rissaurel and Elrohir who was her husband were present. As they were soon to rule in Anderserme for the second time, their opinion would likely be counted even if they did not, strictly speaking, have a vote. Perhaps wisely, they said little. Not so Elrond. 

"In the end, it doesn't matter why the sons of Feanor did what they did. It is useful that it might be a legal and practical defense for them, in part," Elrond emphasized carefully, "In part, for what they did. Not a reason, not an excuse, but part of a reason why it was difficult for them to resist the compulsion to commit heinous crimes in order to retrieve the silmarils they had a blood connection to." Elrond paused for breath, and then continued, "But their blood oath, their crimes, they did not pass to their children. Nor to Maglor's granddaughters, or their descendants. Who the new Queen's grandfather was, should not matter." Elrond concluded. 

"I said that three hours ago." Thranduil noted irritably. This time it was his wife who placed her hand over his, in a silent plea for him to have patience. Thranduil sighed, but acceded, and let Elrond turn the floor over to Amroth. 

"The vote for Galador Annun to provide the next rulers of Marillaeglir has already been cast. Such a vote has never been recalled. But there is no reason to believe it could not be recalled, if the Kingdoms so wish." Amroth said clearly, before asking, "King Ereinion of Anderserme, do you wish to recall your vote?" 

Ereinion Gil-galad stood up, and spoke clearly. "My vote stands. My heirs, Crown-Princess Rissaurel and Prince Elrohir of Anderserme, do you have any objection?" 

Princess Rissaurel looked to her husband, and then turned to face her father. "None, Atar Aranya." 

Amroth turned to Turgon and Elenwe. "And you, King Turgon?" 

The dark-haired warrior-King shook his head, "None. And I can speak for my heirs, Tuor and Idril, as well, if I read my great-grandson correctly." 

Elrond nodded. "Yes. They knew already." 

Amroth nodded in relief, before turning to Thranduil's father, "King Oropher and Queen Felith? Would you care to recall your vote?" 

"No, Amroth, Nimrodel." Oropher declined, "Eryn Brongalen will stand for Galador Annun, and Galador Annun's choice of rulers." 

"I thank you for your support, cousin, and for that fair point." Amroth said kindly, before turning to face his father, who was his and Nimrodel's predecessors as King and Queen of Galador Annun, and his oldest sister and her husband, who were to be his successors, "Father, sister, brother, do you wish to change Galador Annun's choice for Yen-King and Yen-Queen?" 

Nimrodel nodded, "Amroth and I will freely step down, if you will it so." 

"Well-played, ion-nin, iel-nin." Amdir said softly, before more loudly proclaiming, "You are our King and Queen, and will be the King and Queen of Marillaeglir. We will stand behind you." 

"Thank you, Adar." Amroth said. Thranduil could tell that his cousin was relieved, even though Amroth hid it well. He could even tell that Nimrodel was grateful, and there were times when Thranduil did not think that his cousin's ice-queen even had emotions. 

"And you, Prince Celepharn of Doriath Gaeronwest? How would you vote for your King, Dior Eluchil?" Amroth asked. 

Celepharn hesitated, clearly unhappy. "Doriath Gaeronwest declines to vote, at this time." He said after a moment. 

"As is your right." Amroth agreed. He turned then to their surprise guest, "Denethor, you lead the Laiquendi of the woods. Do you have an objection?" 

"No, Amroth. Your father and your grandfather and your great-uncles defended my people, in the East, but I do not judge you by their deeds. You seem capable and compassionate fellow in your own right. Lady Nimrodel, as well. Who her grandfather was is not a matter of importance to me, and I do not think it will trouble my people overly." 

Amroth nodded graciously, before asking, "Celebrian, you represent Avallone for Lady Andreth and Lord Gelmir. How would they vote?" 

"We think that Amroth and Nimrodel are eminently qualified for the responsibilities of ruling Marillaeglir, and see no reason why they should not ascend." Celebrian said firmly. 

"Andreth and Gelmir have great faith in you both." Elrond agreed. 

Nimrodel and Amroth inclined their heads gracefully. 

"You have our gratitude, for your support." Nimrodel told the assembled elves, including Celepharn and Fingon and her other detractors. "I apologize for any harm and difficulty this secret has caused you all, in coming to light at this time." 

It was Celeborn who spoke next. "Unless Doriath-Gaeronwest would like to convene a meeting to recall Galador Annun's right to elect the next Yen-King and Yen-Queen, then I think the decision of what to do is in Amroth's and Nimrodel's hands." 

"Doriath Gaeronwest will decline to do so." Celepharn said softly. Thranduil could see both his father and Celeborn try to hide their relief. 

"Unless you have an objection, my husband and King-to-be," Nimrodel said bravely, "Then my decision would be to just brazen this out. The worst mistakes of my life have come from trying to hide this truth. Change my name on the public postings of our ascension. Call me Nimrodel Maglorchil. What challenges folk may care to make, let them make." 

A silence descended upon the conference room, the first time the marble walls had not reverberated with the sound of voices. 

"Aye, my Queen." Amroth spoke at last. "It shall be as you say." 

And that made Thranduil's week even more irritating. But also very interesting.


	3. Chapter 3

It turned out by the end that there were at least three, and possibly as many as five, different plans to kill Amroth and Nimrodel, all going on during the week of their Ascension Ceremony. Thranduil and the other Chiefs of Security and their staffs managed to stop two of them in their tracks. Eldun of the Nandor was persuaded to give the names of the Lindarin elves he'd tod of Nimrodel's ancestry, who turned out to be related to the elves who had threatened Mithiriel, and who were planning to kill Queen Nimrodel. 

The suspicious food vendor turned out to owe money to a prominent Noldorin council lord, whose son had died in a flying machine accident while working for Legolas' flying machine company. They had been flying water and explosives in to start a back burn to contain a forest fire, when the plane the ellon had been flying was caught in an updraft. It had been a tragedy, and one that had caused Legolas and everyone involved in his operation a great deal of guilt and self-questioning. In the end, the flyers did too much good for anyone to truly think that their use should be discontinued. However, the Noldorin lord had not agreed, and he'd gotten the food-vendor, whose financial troubles were in part due to the replacement of an expensive herb he'd used in his ingredients for thousands of years by a less expensive variant from middle earth which had been planted and harvested under the direction of Amroth and Nimrodel, to agree to let assassins staff his food booths at the ceremony. Thranduil was proud of catching that plot, even as he worried over his poor youngest son, with all of that pain being brought to the surface again. Legolas handled it well, though, and he had his wife Raniel, his children, Gimli, Theli, and Mithiriel all there to support him. 

The Ascension Ceremony went ahead. Thranduil was there, paying careful attention and wishing that Eryntheliel hadn't insisted on sitting with her beloved and Nimrodel and Amroth's families. Fortunately, a large number of trained warriors were present, and Mithiriel was seated nearby, and there were wolves and wildcats also on attention. 

That didn't manage to stop an ellon with a bow from trying to kill Nimrodel, just as she began to walk up the stairs to the Queen's throne. Thranduil got Nimrodel out of the way. By doing so, Thranduil nearly ended up the target of the second arrow, save that Nimrodel grabbed a decorative shield from the front of the stair case and covered them both with it. By then Thranduil could see out of the corner of his eye that Glorfindel's and Prince Egalmoth's soldiers nearly had the assassin bracketed. The fellow did manage to get off a third arrow, which an apparently clumsy and panicking guest from the Vanyarin delegation 'accidentally' shoved Thranduil into. 

Better him than Nimrodel, he supposed, but he still held onto his 'accidental' assailant until someone could take the fellow into custody. Or he would have, if Nimrodel and Amroth hadn't made him lie down. Thraduil's lieutenant Ridhae took the accident-prone Vanya into custody, while Theli and Thranduil's father showed up out of nowhere. 

There was a stricken look on Oropher's face as he stroked Thranduil's cheek gently. Thranduil could have lived the rest of his life without seeing that expression again. 

"I'm sorry." Murmured Thranduil. 

Oropher gasped with relief, both at hearing Thranduil speak, and at Theli's assurance that the wound was relatively minor, and that Thranduil would be fine in due time. 

"Don't be sorry. I love you as you are, arrow-magnet that you are, and this was not your fault." Oropher whispered back fiercely. "But do be more careful." 

"Can he stand?" Lord Glorfindel asked with brusque sympathy, "Because if Thranduil can be cleared as walking-wounded, we could really use him for the rest of this disaster of a ceremony." 

"Why, you....my son has been injured defending our cousin, and yet you...." Oropher was not happy, and Thranduil didn't blame him. Thranduil would feel similarly if it were Thalion, Thandrin, Lithidhren, Legolas, or especially Eryntheliel lying in his place. But beyond being sympathetic, Thranduil was one of the ellyn in charge of this disaster, and he meant to see it through as well as he could. Even if it killed him. Or his father killed him later. 

"Thranduil, your respiration and pulse are within acceptable limits." Theli told him intently, "If you want...." Theli was holding up a pressurized vial. Thranduil knew that it contained a putty of sorts, he couldn't remember what they called it, but it basically worked as a simultaneous bandage, disinfectant and matrix for rebuilding new muscles, flesh, and skin. 

"Do it." He commanded his long-time retainer and sometimes-healer. "But if I almost die of gangrene like that stupid raccoon of yours, I'm going to let my Mother kill you." Thranduil added. 

Theli snorted with amused offense as he nodded for their mutual cousin Elladan to remove the bandage over Thranduil's shoulder wound. "Oh, that hasn't happened in decades." Theli said, perfectly timed to distract Thranduil from the the pain of Theli's inserting the putty. It made Thranduil cry out, which brought over his father and Lord Glorfindel. 

"One only of these, Thrani." Theli said softly, as he unstoppered a second vial and handed it to Thranduil. "After it wears off, you're done. And if the putty doesn't bond, you'll be with the healers for a week." 

Thranduil recognized this vial as a stimulant and painkiller that would keep a dead elf on his feet for half a day, and quickly drank it. 

"Thranduil!" His father exclaimed. Thranduil couldn't de-tangle all of the emotions in that one word, so he didn't try. He just told Glorfindel that he'd seen the decoration on the assassin's tunic before, and they were off.


	4. Chapter 4

The rest of that day truly was a blur. Thranduil could remember pulling together bit and pieces of information he'd learned over the past weeks that he'd been serving as a security captain, just little notes that hadn't made sense to him at the time, but which suddenly now made a coherent and sinister picture that they had to prevent. He could remember Lord Glorfindel, and Elrond, and his father. He could also remember that Prince Fingon having an unexpectedly serious conversation with his middle son Lithidhren and Theli's elder son Nestor. 

Thranduil also remembered making sure that Eryntheliel, Minaethiel, Rhovameril, and his younger grandchildren were somewhere safe. Legolas, Aragorn, and apparently even Lithidhren, were going to be in the thick of things no matter what Thranduil did, so he just brusquely ordered them each to be careful when he saw them. 

The last thing he really remembered from the day of the Ascension Ceremony was Lord Glorfindel telling him, "You're done for today, Thranduil," and Elrond making him drink something. 

After that, he was asleep for awhile. He remembered half-waking a few times during the night, the first time with Minaethiel curled up beside him. The next, to find his father sitting on a chair by his bedside. 

"We haven't done this in a while." Thranduil jested lightly. 

Oropher laughed stiffly. Then he carefully squeezed Thranduil's hand, and ran his other hand comfortingly over Thranduil's hair. "I know, ion-laes-nin. To be clear with you, I never again wanted to sit by your bed-side and watch you be in pain without being able to help, but I want you to be you....and this seems to be part of being you." Oropher sighed heavily. 

"I'm not really in much pain at all, actually. If that helps." Thranduil offered, blinking his own tears away. 

"A little, yes. Your healer is still fired, though." Oropher replied, with a soft smile for his son. 

"I don't think he actually works for either of us." Thranduil pointed out logically, before falling asleep again. 

When he woke up the next morning, Thranduil actually felt well enough to leave the healers' hall. Not just as "well enough" as he usually felt to leave the healers, but actually, truly, well enough. His shoulder hurt, but more like the wound was a week and a half old, rather than a day. Yet it was still just the next day, Thranduil could tell because Amroth and Nimrodel, who had just finished speaking with Theli and were leaving, were both still wearing the same clothes. 

Thranduil did not, however, feel well enough to speak to Galadhir and Celepharn, who appeared to also be in his room. He feigned falling back asleep. 

"If you wake up my patient," Theli whispered to Celepharn in the hale-fellow-well-met tone he had once liked to use before pulling out a hidden blade and gutting particularly unpleasant orcs and human enemies, "Then I will have you escorted from these premises." 

It was hard to hide a smile through the ensuing conversation, but Thranduil managed. Galadhir, fortunately, and surprisingly, was quiet, except for some rather quietly sardonic comments that weren't like him at all. Maybe Thranduil needed to spend more time getting to know him, after all. 

Oropher arrived, and Celepharn and Galadhir were persuaded to depart. Theli, seeing no need to protect Thranduil from Oropher, or to snitch on Thranduil for actually being awake, merely told Oropher that Thranduil would be free to leave in the afternoon if no fever presented itself in the meantime, and said so loudly enough for Thranduil to hear. Then he, too, left the room, closing the door behind him. 

"I know that you're awake." Oropher said with tired fondness. 

"I wasn't trying to not talk to you." Thranduil answered, opening his eyes, and levering himself up into a comfortable sitting position. He let Oropher help, and smiled with pleasure when they were done. Both at how well he felt, and at his father's soothing presence and touch. 

"Are you happy, now?" Thranduil said with a sniff. "Now that I'm getting involved again. Finally doing something, in the West, as you and everyone else have been wanting me to do for decades?" 

Oropher shook his head. "Thranduil, ion-muin-nin, there are not words to describe how much I love you. And this really wasn't what I thought I had wanted, when I said that I wanted you to find something to do here that would make you happy with the doing. But...." Oropher paused, "I want you to be happy. The question is, would you be happy, with this? Celeborn only ever agreed to be Amroth's Chief of Security until they found someone more permanent. It would mean commanding a mixed group of five hundred, with fifty elven soldiers sent from each of the Seven Kingdoms, and associated specialists and support staff to fill in the numbers as needed." 

"And twenty-five soldiers sent by Denethor?" Thranduil jested. 

"I think it's thirty-three." 

Thranduil laughed, before growing quiet. He thought for a bit, about how he had never had a choice in figuring out what he wanted to do with his life, in the Greenwood. He was only just now realizing that he really didn't know what to do, now that he did have a choice of what to do with his life. Since sailing, he'd spent centuries doing what Minaethiel wanted to do, or dwelling in the area of the forest he had chosen to dwell in, and making it more like a blend of Greenwood's forest and Tol Eressea's forest than just Tol Eressea's forest. And he thought that he could always go back to that, when Amroth and Nimrodel's 144 years were over. 

"I think...that I am not unhappy." Thranduil said at last. "That I could be happy enough, doing this, for awhile. I did it well, these past weeks." 

"Yes, you did." Oropher agreed, pride and worry mixed in his tone, "But if you could endeavor not to get punctured by arrows, or stabbed by knives or cut up by swords, or poisoned, or otherwise injured or maimed, I would greatly appreciate it." 

Thranduil nodded, hiding a smile. "I will try, Ada." Thranduil meant that, truly. He didn't like pain anymore than the next elf, and he would never forget the look on his father's face, when Oropher saw him hurt, again. 

"Will you and Nana be able to visit Marillaeglir, sometimes?" Thranduil unbent himself enough to ask, with the memory of his father's pain, and his father's hand on his shoulder. 

Oropher smiled. "Yes. We've decided that it is time to let your brother and his wife serve as King and Queen of Eryn Brongalen for a time. We'll have more time, to travel. To spend with you and Minaethiel, and your children, here." 

Thranduil frowned, slightly irritated. "I don't know where Legolas will be." 

"He'll be here." Oropher answered, seeming in sympathy with his son's frustration at this particular grandson's wandering nature. "Amroth has actually commissioned his flying machine company and service to start a messenger relay with Alqualonde, and even Tirion and Valinor." 

Thranduil choked, and Oropher kindly got him some water, and then stayed with him until Theli let him go. And even afterward, although Thranduil didn't really need the help. He had a wife, and four grown sons and a daughter. He hadn't leaned on his father much, since sailing. It had been too odd. But now Oropher was insisting, and Thranduil found that he didn't really want to reject his father's aid.


	5. Chapter 5

Thranduil more-or-less liked his new job as Commander of Amroth and Nimrodel's Security Forces. He had a bigger office, and he got to personally pick the fifty soldiers from Greenwood, and an outsized proportion of the specialists and support staff from Greenwood, as well. From their ranks, he found himself working mostly with old friends, and a few new, bright, dedicated young elves. One of whom was his foster-granddaughter, Calenwen. Another descendant of Feanor, through her mother Rian, Nimrodel's cousin. 

The elves from Galador Annun were mainly those he was familiar with, as well, and very few of the more objectionable sort. Avallone's elves included many familiar faces, Theli and his son Nestor among them, as healers. Mithiriel, as one of the main shareholders of Legolas' flying machine company, was also resident in Marillaeglir for the next century and a half. Thranduil didn't ask any questions about why the other assassin on the day of the ceremony, the one who had been in Mithiriel's line of sight, had simply dropped his bow, the string of which had then broken. Or why his knives had ended up being fish. The official story was that Theli's wife had simply fainted from the excitement, and it was good that Lord Elrond had been here to take care of her. Celeborn also didn't ask any questions, and Glorfindel actively discouraged inquiries, so the whole matter was dropped. Somewhere out at sea, there was a small earthquake. Mithiriel cried for a day over dead and injured sea creatures, and Theli explained that she was just very tender-hearted. Thranduil made a quiet donation to a Lindarin organization for the protection and care of injured marine creatures, and told Mithiriel not to blame herself. 

Elrond and Celebrian stayed in Marillaeglir as Avallone's ambassadors. Thranduil's oldest son Thandrin and his wife Rhovameril were present, as Eryn Brongalen's ambassadors. Lithidhren accepted a position as one of Amroth's scribes, and rented a town house with Theli's son Nestor, which quickly became known as the venue of choice for elegant parties amongst the younger set. 

Oropher and Felith also stayed in Marillaeglir, as Oropher had promised, renewing their relationship with their youngest son and his children and grandchildren. In fact, Oropher was at times even more involved in his son's life than Thranduil really would have preferred, but it worked out for the best for them and their new relationship as equals, at least in the end. How that came to pass is a different story. 

Thranduil found himself working in the uniquely different position of having both his cousin Celeborn and Lord Glorfindel under him in his chain of command. Celeborn was still serving as Galador Annun's head of security, and Glorfindel had come as the Captain of Gondolin-Earrilye's security detachment. Thranduil had a good working relationship with Celeborn, but he hadn't really been sure of what to do with Glorfindel at first. Yet, as Elrond and Ereinion had assured Thranduil, it turned out that Glorfindel could respect a chain of command. When he wasn't snitching to Oropher about Thranduil overworking. That was, if Celeborn hadn't noticed it first. 

Protecting Amroth and Nimrodel, particularly given the circumstances surrounding Nimrodel's family, was a challenging job. Thranduil learned, however, that he much preferred guarding elves to being guarded by elves, and that he was, in fact, rather good at it. He certainly had a unique perspective on it.

The two assassins who had actually opened fire on Amroth and Nimrodel were from a community in the Vanyarin kingdom that believed that the recently sailed elves were trying to bring back the worship of Morgoth. Why anyone would want to do that, Thranduil wasn't sure. Why anyone would think that, Thranduil also wasn't sure. But he learned a lot, and gained a fair amount of respect, for Prince Fingon and his elves as they worked to unravel the plot and trace it back to its originators. 

Thranduil learned that Prince Fingolfin, Aran Finarfin's older brother, had, much like Thranduil, declined the opportunity to rule his father's and younger brother's kingdom. Instead, he'd been given charge of security for the Kingdom of the Noldor. The Lindar and the Vanyar both relied upon the Noldor, and Prince Fingolfin's elves, for augmenting their own security forces when needed. 

Fingon, Fingolfin's oldest son, had likewise declined the opportunity to take a turn ruling his grandfather's and uncle's Kingdom. He didn't have a specific rank inside Fingolfin's army, he instead quietly looked into matters that were not easy to resolve. Fingon searched the shadows, and to do so, he had to know them. The elves who worked for him, many of them, had to be able to act believably as if they might be willing to do horrible things, or believe ridiculous and terrible things, in order to get close enough to the people who really would do such things, because they believed such things. Often, the best elves for such a challenging and difficult role were elves who had been through dark times themselves, and who had become strong enough to live past them. 

Fingon explained these things carefully to Thranduil, particularly when he brought information to begin tracing back where the other failed plot, the poison which would have gone into the water supply of Marillaeglir if the wounded Thranduil hadn't been able to help Glorfindel and the other security elves to figure out that the assassins were only the distraction, had come from. 

Several months later, Thranduil put a number of different small pieces together, about why it was that his son and his son's best friend had been so deeply engrossed in conversation with Fingon on the day of the Ascension. But that, too, is a different story.


End file.
